


The Technical Integrity of A Masterpiece

by Iwritepornasahobby



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Confusion abt platonic love, Eat shit bob, M/M, Multi, Pining, pretentious college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4956736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwritepornasahobby/pseuds/Iwritepornasahobby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendons an art student and Ryan has varying interests.<br/>Brendon thinks Ryan's a masterpiece in spite of and because of all his 'flaws'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. The Last Supper

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work i'M working on at wattpad and am currently posting on here. its at chapter 5 or 6 on wattpad so I'll be updating it at an interval on here

The door opened with a small, gentle, menial click. Brendon didn't really want to look up but he found it happening nonetheless. Ryan walks inside, grinning brightly. His clothes are clinging to his spindly frame like the artwork clings onto the wall. Brendon notices how young he is as he crisscrosses the gallery. He holds his fingers over the paintings, nearly touching them but not quite, like he wishes to feel the energy and lifeforce of them, fingers following the lines. 

Before turning back to his sketchbook and assignment he takes another thoughtful look at the kid. He appears to be thrumming like he had three cups of expresso, it was really four. And he's undeniably young, clearly still in high school, old enough he should still be here with his mom. Notably his is, but more so because he loves the bright look that his mom gets when she seens him happy and mezmorized by the paintings. Brendon turns back to his sketchbook as Ryan sits next to him. 

"Hi my name's Ryan, What's yours?" He asks happily, grinning. Brendon looks up at him and smiles slightly.

"Brendon." He hums, adjusting his pants and fixing his hair.

"Do you go to school here?" Ryan asks, looking around the room and them glancing at Brendons sketchbook. He takes note of the bland walls, the color of a hospital room and it always made him a bit nausous. Brendon nods politely. "Wow... that's so cool, what's it like?" He asks in one breathe.

"S'Pretty cool kiddo" He says.

"Your sweatshirt looks really soft 'n comfy" Ryan says reaching out and rubbing the the fabric between his fingers. He immeadiatly grimaces and recoils away. Brendon cocks his head to the side confused. "Icky.." He mutters rubbing his hand against his pants and shaking his head. Brendon nods slowly. Ryan looks back up at the paintings.

"I like 'The Last Supper', not the one Da Vinci did.. I like that one too but I really like the one by Tinterretto" He hums, pulling out a notebook where he has a scaled version of Da Vinci's. The whole time Brendon is busy trying to remember who Tinterretto is but doesn't get that far as Ryan is speaking again. "Did ya know that one by Da Vinci is the world's most symmetrical painting in history... A lotta historians and mathemetitians study it isn't that cool Bren?" He says, Face absoloutly delighted and animated.

"Do you wanna go to Art School?" Brendon asks and he sees Ryan's face fall.

"Well... I wanna but I can't. We don' have a lotta money and a lot of schools wouldn't consider giving me a scholarship" He shrugs, with a tiny sigh.

"And why not?" He asks, looking at him thoughtfully. 

"Cuz I'm not 'Promising' " Ryan hums. "That's their way of saying they don't wanna have a special kid fuck up their rep" He says bluntly. And Brendon just makes a 'Huh' sound because he can't even grasp how wrong it is.

"Wow Ryan... Wanna pose for me?" Brendon asks, smiling. Ryan cocks his head to the side. "If they won't let you make art then become art." He says, voice low like like it's a conspiracy. He grins at Brendon and hugs him happily. 

"Thank you!" He says and Brendon smiles at him. He grabs Ryans notebook and scrawls an address on a blank page. 

"Come see me tomorrow, Bring some friends with you if you want" He grins and Ryan nods happily.

"Thank you! You're really pretty" He declares with a smile and Brendon can't even thank him before he's leaning forward. "Can I blow you?" He asks quietly. Brendons sure he didn't hear him right, it didn't make sense, he must have missheard.

"W-What?" He asks, throat dry. Ryan rolls his eyes and smirks.

"Can I blow you? Suck your cock? Put your dick down my throat until I have to breathe through my nos-" He says bluntly, Brendon cuts him off because it's slowly getting more vulgar and he's greatful that the room is so empty.

"No thank you" He says, shaking his head. Ryan pouts but nods. 

Shortly after a woman walks over to them briskly and clears her throat, making Ryan jerk slightly, flushing.

"Ryan, I told you to stay near me" She says, frowning.

"Well I know mom but I'm an adult and 'M talking to my friend Brendon" Ryan huffs, on the verge of whining.

"I see dear but you don't want to bother anyone" She says quietly, smiling at him. She casts a sympathetic look at Brendon, as if to apoligize for her son.

"He's not botherin me Miss, we were talking about art actually" He says, smiling at her. She looks at him again and smiles for real, nothing forced or sympathetic.

"Thank you" She whispers, wrapping an arm around Ryan, making him groan a bit. 

"Wanna come to dinner at my house on Friday? Ta thank you for the art?" Ryan asks Brendon and he nods. Ryan's mother cocks her head to the side in a question. Brendon flushes a bit, nervous about how brash Ryan may be, but he makes no move to start telling her about their plans. 

"Uhhh.... I'm going to um... Draw Ryan. For my art class" He mutters, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. How could she possibly agree to that. It sounds vaguely vulgar and really they don't know much about Brendon which makes him pretty sure that this tiny woman might roundhouse kick him into next year, but she grins again. She nudges Ryan and ruffles his hair.

"My lil Ry, coming out of his shell for real" She says, making him blush. Brendon covers his mouth and giggles a bit. He stands up, sweatshirt grazing Ryan and making him hiss and pull away.

"I'll see you tomorrow" He says, grabbing his sketchbook, before walking away. Ryan nods, slackjawed, and stares at him as he walks away.


	2. 2. The Birth Of Venus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm having a lot of fun writing this tbh but I am editing as I go and I'm sure by the time I'm finished a lot of stuff will have been totally changed, but thank you for reading this, it really means a lot. Also I ran this through a paper grader and told me I needed to wash my mouth with soap which was kinda funny

Brendon had almost literally talked Spencer's ear, meaning had he talked much longer Spencer was liable to cut it off. Brendon was humming and jumping and it wasn't even noon. He was buzzing from excitement at this point, and was too much to handle. Spencer was honest to God praying for Brendon to stop, sit down, and stare at a wall for a few days. And finally, finally, the doorbell rang and Spencer was praising god as he peered out from behind the kitchen frame.

His friend looked more pretentious than could be humanly possible. He spent about 3 hours using gel to dishevel his hair and went through his whole wardrobe to get dressed. He opens the door and smiles at Ryan. His clothes were much looser than before, his large sweatshirt barely touching his body.

"He is cute like you said" Spencer butts in before they get the chance to say hello. "But would you fuck him? That's the important part" He hums. They both blush and Ryan makes a noise at the back of his throat.

"Spencer. Don't you have something to do better than antagonize me?" Brendon asks and he shrugs. 

"Not really. I love being an asshole to you, and you love asshole." He says, but smirks and walks to his room. 

"Hey Ryan... Sorry about my roommate" Brendon says sheepishly, Ryan just nods, looking at him. " Wanna come in?" Brendon asks, smiling. He nods and steps inside, sitting down on their old couch. He stares straight forward at the wall, the same shade of white as the museum. He says nothing, confusing Brendon.

"Uh so I usually do this stuff in my room..." He says and Ryan nods, standing up. He yawns and stretches, his sleeves falling down past his fingers, making him look even tinier than he was. "Yeah I'll just... C'mon..." He says, leading Ryan back towards his room. He opens the door and kicks some things out of the way, motioning to his bed. 

Ryan stands at the door as Brendon walks over to his desk and bends over, looking through things. He stares at him, wondering if his pants felt as soft as they looked. He walked over and rubbed the soft fabric on Brendons jeans, making him jump up and hit his head on the side of his desk. 

"Shit! Ow... Hi Ryan" 

"Sorry! I didn't mean to... They just looked really soft and so I had to touch them even though I knew I shouldn't but they're soft and yeah...." He says and Brendon turns his head towards him, still hunched over. 

"Hey, It's okay kid" He laughs lightly, standing up with a sketchbook in his hands. "Okay so can you take your sweatshirt off?" He asks, running a hand through his hair and smiling. His face falls and he shakes his head slightly, biting his lip. 

"I mean I don't usually.... Y-Yeah I can" He says, nodding slowly and tugging off the sweatshirt. He stretches slightly and Brendon stares at him, seeing a long jagged scar running up his left arm. He stares for what was definitely too long and looks away, laughing nervously.

"So you can just.." He mumbles, motioning to the bed.

"I tried to kill myself... I saw you staring" Ryan says, voice soft. "I was yknow... I was sixteen and sad and I'm okay now" He says, sounding somewhere between serious and casual. Brendon can't really say anything, just nodding and staring. The idea of him, of Ryan, who could barely even keep up with, getting so sad he tried to kill himself was a level of unnerving that made Brendon want to puke but he just motioned to the bed again. 

Ryan smiled and flung himself down, sprawling out. He flips himself over and grins up at Brendon.

"So how're you gonna draw me? Like in Titantic? Or the Mona Lisa? Or like Venus in the Birth Of Venus?" He asks, practically vibrating with thought. Brendon is still trying to catch up with what Ryan was saying and laughed lightly when he processed what had been said.

"Okay two of those are naked women and if that's how you wanna be drawn I won't stop you but my teacher won't approve" Brendon giggles but Ryans face lights up.

"Draw me like Venus!" He exclaims, startling Brendon slightly. "No Bren, listen. So it's like a really intricate painting and then you draw me, In jeans and a t-shirt, It totally derails the concept of beauty as Botticelli was trying to represent it" He says, voice excited like a child's. And when Brendon thought about it, It was a pretty amazing idea that his art history professor would appreciate.

"I Like how you think Ryan." He laughs, as Ryan poses himself, trying to look as goddess like as possible and laughing.

"Am I pretty yet?" Ryan asks, making Brendon smile and nod. He covers his face and blushes, still occasionally being wracked with small giggles. 

Brendon works for what feels like forever, humming contentedly and chatting with Ryan. At some point his door is gently pushed open and Spencer looks in, face looking distressed.

"I-It happened again" He mumbles, voice breaking. He puts his sketchbook down and Ryan looks at them thoughtfully, having no clue what was going on.

"What happened?" Brendon asks, wrapping an arm around Spencer and looking him over. He sniffles and looks down, messing with his shirt.

"I d-didn't mean to" He hiccuped, eyes red. "I was j-just studyin'... An' I started s-scatching y'know" He finishes.

"It's okay Spence, so long as you didn't mean it" He whispers, rubbing his back. "Ry, I'll be right back" Brendon assures, steering Spencer towards the bathroom. This occurrence was not particularly rare, and the main reason they kept a first aid kit on hand.

He sits and Brendon grabs the first aid kit as Spencer pushed up his shirt sleeve. He had scratched his arm raw and bloody, red lines crisscrossing each other frantically like a demented game of tic-tac-toe had taken place near his elbow. Without another word Brendon had disinfected and wrapped his arm, Spencer occasionally making whines of discomfort.

"Thank you" He says, smiling at him weakly.

"Of course Spence, Where're your gloves? So you can keep your hands wrapped?" He asks. Spencer nods slightly and walks to his room, Brendon trailing him. He grabs the gloves and puts them on, Brendon kissing his forehead.

"You good?" 

"Better now that you're takin' care of me" He says and hugs Brendon tight. Ryan notices the time and sneaks out, leaving a small note for Brendon.

I had fun, call me later xoxo


End file.
